


A Dangerous Plaything

by flyicarus



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyicarus/pseuds/flyicarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flack considers himself a true man, wanting two things from life: danger and play. FlackLindsay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Danger

_The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything._

\- Friedrich Nietzsche

 

He first decides Lindsay is dangerous when they shake hands at her first crime scene in New York. It sounds innocent, shaking hands, but Flack decides that the way she smiles (more what it does to him, if he's honest with himself) isn't so innocent after all. He thinks maybe she knows what it does to him, because she looks over at him several times that day and just smiles. He doesn't take to people easy; maybe it's a byproduct if being a cop, but he just doesn't. It has kept him from committing to relationships in the past, but there's something about the new girl from Montana that makes him want to live in colors, to find that forever kind of love that keeps you going. He decides she's dangerous, and avoids her at all costs at crime scenes from then on.

Flack doesn't chase his women, or disrespect them. It isn't the way he was brought up. But there's something about Lindsay that makes him wonder what the chase would be like. He thinks it would be interesting, at least. And he knows that she's an honest sort of girl, and she deserves someone to treat her right. He gets all of this from a few moments at that first crime scene, and from scattered words here and there at the lab. He finds it dangerous that he wants to commit, wants to be with a woman just so he can show her what it's like to be respected and treated like the only thing of utmost import in the universe.

One day he comes to the lab and he sees her talking with Danny. She's laughing about something and he feels jealous because he doesn't know why. Something inside him wants to be the only one who tells her clever jokes and makes her smile. He gets angry with himself, for getting jealous, and angry with her for making him feel this way. It's not right but he needs someone beside himself to blame. When Lindsay comes up to him a few mintues later talking about DNA results, he snaps at her. Flack doesn't miss the hurt look in her eyes, nor the stab of guilt that etches itself on his heart. From that day on, he just calls her dangerous because she makes him feel.

One night he goes out drinking with Danny and Lindsay. It was a tough case, and he doesn't usually talk about the hard ones outside of work but this one was really bad. He doesn't remember most of the night, but he remembers waking up in Lindsay's bed with her honey-colored hair splayed across his chest and he's angry. Angry at himself for using her in this way. It's not really fair, not to her or to him, because he loves her and she doesn't know. Now he calls Lindsay dangerous because he remembers every moment of that night, drunk or not, and he can't get it out of his head.

The first time he kisses Lindsay ( _really_  kisses her, a sober kiss that means something to both of them) is during an argument. He doesn't know why he's mad at her; Lindsay has a way of making him feel things, of making him behave erratically. Angry sad joyous loved confused content. He can't decide. They're too close to notice that the space between them—a few feet only a moment ago—is now merely inches. Suddenly they're almost touching, and then they  _are_  touching and he grabs her round her waist and she lets him pull her those few centimeters closer. Dangerous, how when he feels his breath meet hers he feels his will disintegrate. It's downright damnable when she whispers his name—"Don, oh Don"—and he decides that she shouldn't be allowed to say things like that, to say his name in such a way that he knows he'd do anything for her.

On their first date he takes her to a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant that Stella told him about. It turns out that the haddock and codfish in her pasta make her sick and he feels bad. He holds her hair out of her face and rubs her back as she vomits in the alley beside the restaurant. Flack thinks it was a bad date, not just a bad date that you could make up by getting a girl flowers, but so bad that Lindsay will never want to date another man again. And when he does show up at her apartment with roses that he can't afford, he thinks it's dangerous that he wants to impress her so much, that he wants to make it up to her. He's never wanted that for anyone before.

The first time he and Lindsay make love it's at his place. She pulls him in by his tie for a kiss and he responds without conscious thought, to the heat of her body and the slow, sweet pressure of Lindsay's mouth against his. It grows from there and clothes are shed quickly; it's done nice and slow in his bed, but before they get there it's hot, urgent—she is the sun and Flack is the earth. When she gets up to leave he catches her hand with his own and asks her to stay. He's pleading, really, and he hates himself for it. That's when he realizes that she's not just dangerous; she's hazardous material.

Flack goes to see the NYPD homicide psychiatrist three days later. He passes the test but he feels he shouldn't have, so he asks for a leave of absence. It's granted and that's when he and Lindsay have their first real conversation. It's the first time he tells her that she's dangerous.

"The world won't just stop because you want it to," she says.

"I don't want it to, I want…" He stops there because he doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't know anything anymore, except for Lindsay.

"Why won't you let me in?"

"I have let you in," he says angrily, "and I can't get you out. That's the problem. I'm going insane."

Lindsay looks shocked and he almost feels bad for telling her how he feels in this way.

"What does that mean, Don?"

"You're dangerous, Lindsay," he says, feeling regret. He never meant for any of this to happen.

Now whenever he plays word association games in his mind, Lindsay Monroe is always connected to danger. Whenever he sees her, the word flashes like a neon sign in his head, and it's hard for him to see past it. Flack wishes he could, though, because Lindsay is wonderful and she makes him live in color. When he's with her he sees what it would be like if he had anything at all to say for himself. He loves her and it's dangerous, but he's a true man and he'll risk anything for her, for the woman who owns his soul because that just has to happen in order for him to feel whole again.


	2. Play

Lindsay's first sight of New York City is the tall buildings and the winding streets of concrete. It's overwhelming and it's not until she gets off the plane that she thinks, oh god, what am I doing here? But when she gets her first sight of New York's finest, she thinks that maybe everything in this city is tall. She can see that he is, he's tall and fit with dark hair. Maybe he has blue eyes. She likes blue. Her new boss introduces the detective as Don Flack, homicide. He has blue eyes and when he shakes her hand and she smiles at him, something shutters his gaze and she wonders. She wonders how he deals with everything he has to see. She wonders what keeps him sane. Lindsay wonders what this detective is really like, and vows to find out. It's just something to play at until she gets comfortable in the city.

She's playing with her hair when Flack's briefing Mac about his progress on the case. She heard somewhere that if a girl plays with her hair, it means she's keen on a guy. Lindsay tries this technique and it doesn't work; Flack looks at everything but her, he says hello, goodbye and that's all. She decides he's just having difficulty dealing with his feelings and wants to know why. When she corners him after his shift, he looks trapped; she feels bad, because all she wanted to do really was talk. She's curious about him. Flack's a puzzle to her, a mystery wrapped inside an enigma. She never plays with her hair again when he's around.

She first understands that Flack has feelings for her after she talks to Danny. Danny's charming but he isn't what she's looking for. He's too predictable in his unpredictability. She sees Flack watching them out of the corner of her eye, sees his brow furrow, sees him look away. Even from this distance she can see the stiffness of his posture. He's angry, jealous, and even now she doesn't understand that what she's doing is playing with hearts. With his, and with her own.

Lindsay never drank that night, but she remembers Flack drinking beer after beer. The case had gotten to him and that's never supposed to happen. Emotional detachment is the name of the game. When she hails a cab she helps him in, and a few moments later they're off. He puts his arm around her shoulder and slurs his words,

"You know, I really…like…you, Monroe. You're not…half bad."

So when he kisses her clumsily she forgives him because she can't remember a time when men didn't taste like alcohol, and right now she doesn't want to think of anything but him. She had wanted to just play at learning about him, to discover his deep dark secrets and then discard him like too-small jeans, but he's grown on her. So when they reach her apartment and they fumble their way inside, she decides to play at loving him just a little bit, but something deep inside her knows that she's not just playing anymore.

They're arguing and she hates it. Lindsay has always hated fighting but she hates fighting with Don most of all. She can't remember the last time she called him Flack. She thinks maybe, maybe it started with that night. She knows he doesn't remember, or if he does he doesn't act like he remembers. Suddenly they're standing too close for people that are arguing and they're touching, and he's really kissing her. Not a drunken kiss but a real kiss and she wants to play the stone fox but she can't. Lindsay would never tell Don but he melts her inside.

She remembers when she was a kid she would play out in the stable with the horses. Her papa said she was too little to be near them but she didn't listen and she fell and scraped her knee. She thinks about that now and when she compares that to Don she thinks maybe she's playing with fire. She's been burned before, but sometimes she's sorry that she's lit a fire big enough for Don's heart to catch. Lindsay's sorry because the fire has reached her heart too and she doesn't know what to do.

On their first date she gets sick and Don brings her flowers the following night. They're expensive flowers and she knows he can't afford them, so it makes him all the more dear to her. He says he's sorry and when she kisses him silent Lindsay finally realizes she isn't playing anymore. This is real, she thinks, and she doesn't like how whenever she sees Don now she gets butterflies in her stomach and her pulse rises. She wishes she were little again so that she could be that age when you cease to play with someone, only next to them. But that's impossible and if she were truly honest with herself Lindsay would realize she's in love but she's playing the fool.

After they first make love she wants to leave. She's never stayed the night with a man but when Don clutches her hand and asks her to stay she can't say no. She holds back sleep for as long as possible just to watch him in his slumber, because Lindsay thinks that he looks peaceful. She likes to think that she's responsible for that and when he whispers her name in his sleep she feels content and drifts off herself, holding him in her arms. In the morning his cellphone rings and it's Mac; he needs Don at the scene, Thacker and Maka can't make it. But she kisses him, bringing him closer to her. It's her day off so she can afford to play in bed with Don.

"I think you just got caught in terrible traffic," she says.

"It's a jungle out there," he agrees.

Don tells her she's dangerous three days later. She doesn't quite know what he means, except for maybe he's telling her loves her in his own way. She knows he's reluctant to let people in. He doesn't want to fail her and she understands that. But when he tells her his hands are empty, she says, "Not anymore," and puts her own hands in his. It's a half-full kind of love that they'll have to work at. There will be walls to break and trust to be gained, but she decides that it's worth it. You risk everything or nothing when you're playing the game of love.


End file.
